


Raw and Bruised

by Yggdrastiles (hauntedsilences)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: But not really that much, Cock & Ball Torture, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedsilences/pseuds/Yggdrastiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will promised Hannibal a reckoning. This probably wasn't what Hannibal had in mind. Set sometime during season 2</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raw and Bruised

**Author's Note:**

  * For [empathalitis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/empathalitis/gifts).



"You lied to me, Hannibal. You manipulated me, you toyed with my head, made me feel like I was going insane. You've broken my trust, the faith I had in you." Will accused, sitting in his chair across from Hannibal.

"I have, yes." He agreed. "And then you attempted to have me killed." He said placidly. Will narrowed his eyes at the lack of remorse or any emotion, really.

"You could say that my attempt at retribution was thwarted." Will said. "I promised you a reckoning, Doctor. I intend to deliver."

"Do you intend to make another attempt on my life, then?"

"Not on your life, no. That would be...too merciful." Hannibal still looked adamantly unflappable and it only pissed Will off. "Your dignity, on the other hand..."

"You wish to hurt me."

"Among other things."

"If pain is to be my retribution, I am confident in my ability to endure my penance, for the sake of our friendship." Again, delivered utterly unconcerned. Will intended to change that.

"Stand up, Doctor Lecter." Will said, just as calmly. Hannibal raised an eyebrow, but complied, looking far too in charge for Will's liking. "Take off your suit jacket." Will instructed, standing as well, but moving to pace along the room at his leisure.  
Hannibal did as he was told and then looked at Will expectantly. "Your pants now, Doctor." This gave Hannibal pause, but to his credit, he only hesitated for a moment before he was slipping his feet from his trousers and folding them neatly, placing them on the seat of his chair. Will eyed him consideringly. Doctor Lecter wore boxer briefs, that was interesting.

"Stand behind your chair." Will directed, coming to stand closer to Hannibal. He'd thought about bending him over the desk but somehow this seemed more degrading. As Hannibal obeyed without a word, Will took in the sight of his bare legs, socks held by sock garters, expensive Italian leather shoes. His underwear would be next to go, but Will would do that himself. He'd leave them around Hannibal's ankles. Will smiled to himself at that image and stepped closer to Hannibal.

Hannibal had braced his hands on the back of the chair, practically completely upright. That wouldn't do. "Hands on the seat, Doctor." He said and Hannibal paused for the first time, but complied before Will could say anything, exposing his backside almost obscenely to Will's perusal.

Will grinned, unseen by Hannibal, and reached forward, slipping the first two fingers of each hand just inside the waistband of his boxer briefs, and tugged them down to mid-thigh. He took a moment to appreciate how surreal it was that he had Hannibal in front of him, bared completely, vulnerable. Hannibal's vulnerability was a heady drug, and Will began to feel the same rush that he had when he'd shot Garret Jacob Hobbs. 

He tamped down the urge to caress the flesh in front of him, mentally chastising himself for his moment of weakness, and instead brought his hand down sharply on his upturned ass. Hannibal didn't cry out, but he inhaled sharply, enough for Will to know that it had surprised him just enough. His handprint was stark red against the pale flesh. "Count." He said, slapping the skin again. 

"Two." 

Will spanked him again, appreciating how his skin turned red and angry. 

"Three."

"Four." 

"Five."

It was infuriating how unfazed Hannibal seemed, his voice completely unchanged. Very well, Will supposed it was never going to be easy, and he had, essentially, an unspoken carte blanche. There was nothing saying that Hannibal couldn't just get up and walk away at any point. No, he was there because Will wanted him there, it was as simple as that. 

"Eleven." 

"Twelve." 

"Thirteen." 

Hannibal hissed as the thirteenth blow hit and Will counted it as a small victory and took pleasure in hitting even harder for the next blow, smirking as Hannibal gasped, "Fourteen." But this wasn't enough. No, Will wanted him begging.

"Eighteen." 

"Nineteen." 

"Ah! Twenty." He gasped. Will's hand had begun to sting, but he remembered the hell that Hannibal had put him through and his resolve was renewed. 

By the time they got to forty, Hannibal was rocking onto his tip toes with every blow, panting with exertion. By fifty-five his words were mumbled. His ass was purpling and Will's arm was tiring. Five more blows and Will paused, running his hand over heated, throbbing skin. Hannibal hissed at the contact and he shifted, but Will couldn't quite tell if he was trying to get away or get closer. 

Will leaned back to consider the image that he made, ass red and sore and exposed, bent over his own chair that way. It was debauched and obscene and it settled something in Will. He was about to resume the blows when he noticed something much more...interesting. "Really, Doctor? This is what does it for you? Bent over furniture and spanked raw?" He mocked, eyeing Hannibal's dripping erection with interest. He felt himself grow tighter in his own trousers in response and that was...perhaps not as unexpected as it should have been. 

Hannibal didn't respond verbally, but made a noise low in his throat, Will couldn't tell if it was out of humiliation or arousal. Both, perhaps. Will reached between his legs and tugged on his balls, prompting a low grunt from Hannibal as he pulled them back between his thighs. He held them in the palm of one hand, and with his other, slapped them, but not hard. Hannibal rocked forward with a low, keening sound. So Will slapped them again, harder this time, and was satisfied to hear a short cry break free from Hannibal. Good, this was progress. 

"Yes, Doctor? Did you need something?" He asked, slapping them again and Hannibal moaned quietly. Will released him then, and unbuckled his belt. THAT garnered a reaction, as Hannibal turned his head for the first time, but Will halted the motion with a hand to his back. "Stay down." He said, slipping his belt from the loops. Hannibal obeyed, but Will could hear his breath coming faster now.

"Restart your count." Will said before swinging the belt to make contact with the tops of Hannibal's thighs. He clenched the muscles of his backside and grunted, "One." Will left a bright red stripe across his skin and wondered how hard he could hit before he drew blood. 

"Two." Hannibal gasped, toes tensing and back muscles flexing. 

"Three." He cried, clenching his hands into fists. 

"Four!" Hannibal's knees were shaking, clearly this was a much more effective way to reduce him to his base components. Will admired the stripes that crossed his bruising skin, pink and red and purple. Hannibal wouldn't be sitting right for quite some time. 

"Five!" Hannibal nearly shouted, slumping across the seat as his arms folded, no longer able to hold him upright. 

"Six!" Will's first blows with the belt had raised up into welts, wide, swollen strips of skin. He wanted to lick them. He wanted to bite them. He chanced a glance at Hannibal's cock, still very much erect, still very much leaking onto the floor. Will wondered distantly if Hannibal would be able to get off like this, on the pain alone. He wasn't sure he wanted that. 

"Beg me, Hannibal. Beg me if you think you've had enough." 

Hannibal was silent for a long moment. "More, Will." He said, breath hitching. 

"Seven!" 

"Oh god, eight!" 

"Oh Will, Will, nine!"

"AH! Ten!" 

"Beg me, Hannibal." 

"Please Will. Oh god, eleven." 

"BEG ME." 

"Please Will, please. Oh, I, I apologize, please, Will..." He babbled, near incoherent. Will couldn't tell if he was weeping yet or not, but his ass was bruised and bloody in places where the belt had broken skin. Suddenly the pleasure he'd been deriving from this...wasn't as pleasurable. He didn't like seeing Hannibal like this, beaten and broken. 

"Shhhhh, it's alright." Will soothed, rubbing his raw flesh gently. Hannibal was still murmuring nonsense under his breath in a language Will wasn't even sure was English. "Shhhh, I'm done, it's alright." He promised. Hannibal, somehow, was still very hard and Will wondered if maybe he'd been too soft on him after all. But no, he was done. 

Before he could think about it, he wrapped his hand around Hannibal's cock, as ruddy and throbbing as the skin of his backside. "Yes, Will, please, please, please..." Hannibal murmured, canting his hips into Will's touch, and now he knew Hannibal really was crying, he could hear his sobs and see the way his shoulders shook spasmodically. 

"That's it, Hannibal, that's it." He encouraged, stroking him the way he'd stroke himself. Hannibal didn't seem to mind one way or the other, too lost in the haze of pleasure. He pumped the skin of his cock, entranced by the way his foreskin slid over his head, and Will wanted to taste, he could feel his mouth watering. No, if that ever happened, Will wanted Hannibal in his right mind. They'd be on more equal footing. 

Will slid his thumb over the head of his cock, rubbing at his slit and teasing it with the edge of his thumbnail. This seemed to be the end of Hannibal's ability to last because he shuddered and gasped, arching his back as he came all over the back of the seat. He cried out, pleas and epithets tumbling from his mouth in languages foreign to Will, but no less beautiful. As Hannibal began to slump back over the chair, utterly boneless, Will just barely managed to coax and guide him over to the chaise lounge where he collapsed facefirst on top of Will. Will obliged him, settling them so that he could wrap his arms around the trembling and broken man. 

He held him tightly for what felt like hours, murmuring words of encouragement and praise as Hannibal hid his face in the crook of Will's neck. He didn't want to hurt this man, not anymore. It was far more pleasurable in theory than in practice, and having seen him laid so bare, so vulnerable before him...well, Will couldn't fathom betraying his trust. Because somehow, despite the hurts they had caused each other, Hannibal still trusted him enough to let him do this, and that...that was a precious gift. 

Will sighed, this wasn't at all how he'd expected things to turn out. Hannibal stirred against him. "I must admit I did not anticipate this series of events." He said quietly. 

"Neither did I." Will replied. "We've both really fucked up." He said ruefully. 

Hannibal hummed. "Perhaps. Would you say our scores are settled?" 

Will considered this. He had the strangest urge to apologize for having beat Hannibal but no, that wouldn't be well-received. This was the punishment Will had set. This was Hannibal's absolution. The slate was clear, wiped clean, scores settled. "Yes. I think so." Will answered. "I'd rather try to put the past behind us now." 

Hannibal nodded against his shoulder. "I would like that very much." He agreed. "Although I would perhaps rather not have anything behind me for the forseeable future." He said with a small wince. 

"Reckoning, Hannibal." Will reminded, with a teasing lilt to his voice. 

"Yes, Will." Hannibal agreed, a similar note of amusement present in his response. Will had no idea what would happen next between them, but they'd probably manage to figure it out without killing each other. Probably.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr](yggdrastiles.tumblr.com)


End file.
